


Learning Curve

by BlackVelvet42



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Angst, Character Death, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Romance, Sexual Content, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 23:47:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10955265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackVelvet42/pseuds/BlackVelvet42
Summary: "Among all the variations, there was only one constant. Kathryn."





	Learning Curve

From whispers to words, from shadows to shapes. The bridge, red alert, her sharp orders. The viewscreen, five Kazon ships, torpedo fire. Which life was this? The only thought he had time to form. Shields are down, brace for impact, and – nothing.

Voyager had been attacked so many times he couldn’t begin to count them. But it was one of the rare occasions when he had died. It didn't feel much like anything. Not very memorable, nothing worth to mention, unlike many other incidents in this odd existence. And anyway, the experience faded soon enough to a vague memory, joining an ever-growing collection of what ifs.

The mess hall with familiar faces, sounds, and smells. This was included in most of his lives. No way to differentiate between timelines. Then she entered and searched the room, her face breaking into a warm smile as she spotted him in the far corner. "I'm so sorry I'm late," she said, resting her hand briefly on his. Oh, I like this one, please let it last. Among all the variations, there was only one constant. Kathryn.

In the beginning, he had tried to understand and solve the situation. Explaining to everyone what little he could. And they listened and considered, analyzed and experimented, to patch this fracture in time and space, if that's what it was. To no avail. They found nothing to be fixed. And she asked him to bear with it, sooner or later they would find answers and make it right. Then came the Borg and there was so little they could do to defend themselves and his life shifted again. He never repeated that approach.

As a new timeline begun, the previous seemed to fade away to the back of his mind. Usually, it was a merciful, welcome oblivion, not to recall all the detailed horrors of their journey. But some memories were too precious to lose. The softness of her hair, the taste of her skin, the look on her face when he said he loved her. Desperately, he wanted to hang on to them, keep those moments vivid, to help him through whatever might come next. But they were always drifting to the edge of his consciousness, lingering there as distant echoes of happiness. And he was left waiting and hoping that the next cycle would turn out as gratifying.

They weren't really lives he was going through. He realized this rather soon. It was more like reliving something that had already happened or was a possibility to happen. Shifting back and forth in different moments, in alternative realities. He had no real power to change anything. His words and actions were only an imitation of free will, rather more like repeating sequences that were predefined. This was never more painful than during those events he had already lived once and witnessed the end result. He did his best to prevent the worst, but if he succeeded, he was almost sure it was only because that time it wasn’t meant to happen.

Life hadn't always been like this, that much he remembered. Long ago, before the Delta Quadrant, living was a one-way narrative. Growing up in the colony, fiercely rejecting his father’s teachings and his own heritage, only to regret his juvenile rebellion years later. There was the inescapable law of cause and effect, the natural order of things, and no way to go back no matter how much he sometimes wanted to change the past. Then came the Caretaker, Voyager, and her. Everything seemed to gain new meaning the first day he met her.

Dropping into the midst of a life where they were lovers was a surprise, to say the least. His first day on the bridge, new but still familiar, had been routine when she leaned to him over the console at the end of their shift hoping he would make it to her quarters that night. The sparkle in her eyes left nothing unclear and later he had approached her door nervous as a first-year cadet. But she was warm and wonderful, her arms around his neck and her lips on his felt like they were made to be exactly there. The bliss lasted almost a year and there was nothing more he could ask for. Then came another attack where they lost three members of the crew and she pulled back from him. She didn’t have to explain, he knew why. The pain following was equal to the joy earlier. Having her so close and still out of his reach. Existence reduced to mere survival.

Even if they never got intimate there was always their friendship. Deeper and more meaningful than any he had in his life before Voyager. It began with an instant, mutual trust, foolish no doubt, considering the circumstances they met. Some kind of frail recognition of a kindred spirit, an inevitable bond. A knowledge that they would never deliberately hurt each other, but always treat with respect and consideration. Someone to rely on, for better or for worse. That first impression had a solid ground and it carried them through most of the difficulty as they strove to get home. Most, but not all.

The first time Kathryn had died, she was four months pregnant and more stubborn than ever. Dismissing his protectiveness, insisting on leading the away mission, stating she wasn't incapacitated just because she was with child. He should have personally tied her, brigged her, anything, because he had a bad feeling about it from the beginning. And then everything that had been so perfect fell apart. They sliced her throat in front of him in a pointless demonstration of dominance. And as he struggled in their grasp, watching the light drain from her eyes, howling at the skies of a loss so immeasurable, he begged that it would all end, that he wouldn't have to live another life ever again.

Despite his pleas, he did have to live, shifting to another new setting. More stable, ordinary, predictable. Without the joy of having her, but also without the fear of losing so much. Yet she was always close to him, no matter what their relationship was. Whether they were colleagues, friends, lovers, or the outcome he dreaded the most, when they ended up hating each other through a series of hardship and misunderstanding and not enough opportunity to heal all the hurt this quadrant inflicted on them. She was still the one his life revolved around.

The most peculiar cycles were the ones where he wound up with Seven. Whether it was a one night he regretted the moment he pulled out of her, or the dating that never seemed to move forward, or the marriage of convenience, it made no sense. Even when he lived through all the phases that led to those choices he still wondered why it happened, how he could turn away from Kathryn. During those years, Kathryn was never anything but friendly, supportive of them. What did follow was that little by little she drifted away from him, so far, that ultimately he didn't know anything about her life outside the bridge. And that's where those strange and awkward scenes ended.

It occurred to him one day, that not in even one of those lives did she end up with anyone else. Why was that? In the beginning, there was the memory of Mark. Later, the occasional encounters on shore leaves, the holodeck characters whose names he couldn't remember, but no one else on board and nothing long lasting. And even through those affairs, their relationship maintained unchanged. She always seemed to come back to him. For his advice, support, comfort, love, anything she needed, he gladly gave.

Until they entered Devore space and along came Kashyk. Somehow getting under her skin in a way no one else ever had. He tried to reason with her, assure her, that she didn't need to do anything she was manipulated into doing, that they would find another way. In the end, his words made no difference. She went to him freely and when it was over she stood at his door, shaking, smelling of him. He took her in and wrapped her in his love, erasing the pain and the humiliation with gentle caresses, making her whole again. Then Kashyk returned and after each visit, there was a little less left of her to be healed. They survived, but there came others like him, only more brutal. Still, the decision seemed to be easier for her every time. Until the last, when she was beamed back to Voyager, violated so badly that she couldn't be saved.

Memories like that seemed to burn into his mind. The sharpest pain passing with the shift, yet the knowledge remaining. That she was capable of making insane, needless decisions like that, risking her life over and over again as she maneuvered them through the uncharted dangers of the quadrant. The need to protect her, at any cost, grew on him like a second skin. So when Kashyk appeared in another timeline he did exactly what he had wanted to do earlier, killed him at sight. Not much good came out of it, though. She was furious and Voyager was seized and he was dead within hours. Even so, his last feeling was peace, knowing he had done the only thing he could.

With the passing years, he discovered there were other dark sides to her as well, hidden under the exemplary Starfleet officer she was. Especially, her tendency to deep depression. Ghosts of past choices and losses and failures, real and imagined, haunting her every day. Her proneness to give in to the whispers in her mind, the firm belief she was flawed, worthless, responsible for the grief of too many. Sunken in those depths there wasn’t much he, or anyone else, could do. Sometimes, she drowned. Even when she appeared to be well, he suspected that her willingness to sacrifice herself for the good of others was partly rooted in the same false sense of self. This dark undercurrent was an integral part of her, not obvious to many, but he couldn’t ignore it and did his best to mend those wounds and ease her burden.

Although he estimated living well over a hundred different timespans, stretching from a few minutes to decades, he didn't seem to change. Not essentially. His body didn't grow old, his mind didn't tire. He lived every life as if it was his only one, with just a vague remembrance of the previous ones. Or maybe they were only heartbeats perceived as years, showing flashes of possibilities. Eventually, the experiences did accumulate. Some things he did remember better, some things seemed to repeat with variations. As though someone was trying to tell him something. Or change something. Or find a means for a certain outcome. He wasn't sure. At first, he had thought it was arbitrary, that he was caught in a disturbance in space, an anomaly that had to be solved to get out and move forward. Gradually, he began to suspect there was some meaning, perhaps an intelligence, behind it all. Because the variations weren't random, but very specific.

Everything he learned concerned her, a little more with each life he got to live by her side. Every tone of her voice, every change of emotion, every curve of her body. A spectrum of details that composed this amazing woman, and he treasured each one of them. He knew there was no use to start a conversation before her morning coffee. She truly was an awful cook and it wasn't unusual that she actually forgot to eat. Her ambition was beyond comprehension and she hated losing with every fiber of her being. She liked to keep bathing as her private pleasure, but after, she loved to feel his weight on her, rendering her helpless, under his control. She was irritating when she was bored, and ruthless when she was angry. And when she slept it was like watching all the beauty in the universe gather around her to rest.

The day he realized the depth of his love for her, he broke down crying. Because he kept losing her no matter what he did or how hard he tried. And if there ever had been a time for them in the real world he feared he'd lost that chance forever. So he went to her, took her into his arms and his bed, and made love to her with an intensity and affection she wasn't ready to accept in that timeline. Resolute, burning with the need for proof that they were right and they were real, he gave her no chance for escape. He flooded her with all his love and passion, hiding nothing and demanding everything. And without much of a struggle, she yielded, melting into him in absolute surrender.

Without any advance warning, the next time his awareness surfaced and focused on the surrounding world, he knew the cycles had ended. The colors were sharper, the voices clearer, his thoughts as if awakened from a long dream. He realized he’d lived this moment before. Commanding the Val Jean, Tuvok next to him, B'Elanna missing. And then her face appearing on the viewscreen. "Commander Chakotay. My name is Captain Kathryn Janeway." Only her voice wasn't as confident as he remembered it being, and her expression was softer, lost, unsure. “How do you know my name?" His words came out like a fixed line springing from a memory almost forgotten. Then he realized, after all these years, that he had his own voice again, and the possibility to choose. "Kathryn?" he had to ask, breathing her name like a fragile prayer. Her eyes echoed an instant reply, glistening with recognition and relief and all the suffering that didn’t happen. The need to hold her and never let her go was overwhelming. And he vowed this time everything, everything would be different.


End file.
